Visions

 

Maybe it was genetic or maybe it was a curse given to an ancestor and passed down generation after generation . But he , like his father, could see things “abstractly” as his Dad would say. Like seeing things upside down in a crystal ball, he could see thru emotions and lies. But he saw things he didn’t want to see. The game of life did not come easy to him. Until one Friday night, when he chose to see it as a gift, to see life as a gift. After that night the world seemed different, more colorful and  glorious, and he was at peace.

 

 

 

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Ragtime Daily Prompts: friday

Daily Writing Challenge: top photo

Friday Fictioneers: bottom above, by Jeff Arnold

fandango’s fowc : abstract

Enchanted

 

She was an enchantress

or so public opinion would have you believe.

There was no flag outside her door saying who she was.

Yet, people believe what they want to believe.

A Brooding Sunflower

As summer turns to Autumn,

and Autumn turns to Winter,

snow covers the sun flowers in my garden,

glistening in the sunlight.

I watch from my kitchen window,

with brooding eyes,

the world turning white with snow.

Memories of summer days spent

lounging on my patio ,

swimming, and

grilling with friends

Come to the surface.

I lay in waiting for the snow to melt,

for the snow storm to pass,

to not feel trapped in my own home,

to be able to open my front door,

and explore the world once again.

Lay in waiting for the storms of my mind to pass,

to not feel trapped in my life,

to be able to open my front door,

and explore the world once again.

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Prompted by :

Daily Word Prompt: brood

Daily Writing Challenge: WATA: photo above

Dverse Pub : open link night

The cabin

In a cabin on a sleepless mountain, I woke to birds singing. Then went on a hike to see the autumn leaves. Saw critters dance along the windy path, branches rustling as they go. Then went home to my cabin. I listened to wolves howling at a witch’s moon as I brewed my tea. Nestled into my comfortable sofa while the fireplace was ablaze with a roaring fire. Read a book filled with characters who had found moments of serendipity. Wished for more of my own. Then went to sleep as the crickets sang me a lullaby. I dreamt of countries not yet traveled all night long. Woke the following morning, grateful for the glorious day that I had. Grateful for the one that was just beginning to form amidst an orange globe surrounded by purple clouds.

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Prompted by :

3tc: moon, howl, night

WATA: bottom photo

RDP: Serendipity

Thursday Photo Fiction: top photo, photo by  Sue Vincent